The Goron Transformation
by OmniSplash
Summary: A revised version of my narration of Link recieving the Goron Mask.


The Goron Transformation Link wrapped his arms around his shoulders and chest, shivering as the cold breeze blew over him. The snow was gently falling, blanketing everything in the small village with a pearly sheen. It was nothing like the Goron town back in Hyrule, shielded deep within Death Mountain. The townspeople were sitting or standing around small bonfires, their breath making clouds in the frigid air. Link looked back to the invisible bridge that he had just crossed, the feathers balancing impossibly on thin air. He pulled out the Lens of Truth, aiming it toward the area, and saw the ice blocks floating in the air, leading to the cave and back. The magical object still head against his eye, he scanned the village. Across the snow- covered domes, nothing. Under and around the wooden bridges, nothing. Then something caught his eye. Taking blind steps towards a distant shape, a grayish specter came into view, hovering just above the ivory ground. Putting the Lens down, Link began to run toward it, but quickly realized it had vanished. Link pulled out the artifact again and scanned the general area. Sure enough, there it was, looking grimly across the village. This time the Hero of Time approached it slowly with the aid of the lens, making sure to keep the phantom in his sight at all times. Finally Link came upon it. The figure was a Goron, and a large one. It stared down at Link with beady but fierce eyes, with an expression of ennui on his face, as if this happened often. Link slowly reached forward to touch the ghost, but his hand passed directly through him. Realizing someone could see or hear him, the spirit called out, ordering Link to follow him. Link steadied his gaze and pursued the Goron as he floated away from the village, back toward the river and the wall of ice. The specter slowed occasionally to look back and make sure Link was still behind him. It moved silently across the cold river and floated up the ice wall nonchalantly. When he reached the top, the Goron glanced down expectantly, folding his arms over his chest and waiting. Link examined the ice wall for any way to climb it. Sure enough, rusted iron rungs, apparently forming an old ladder, became noticeable to Link only when he looked at the wall through the Lens of Truth. Reciting a silent prayer, the boy began to climb. The bars were freezing, and Link's grip began to slip. Suddenly he heard a noise from above. It was the ghost, hurrying him. Sensing the urgency in his voice, Link climbed faster, and finally reached the top. Without giving him much time to recover, the ghost hurried into a small cave inside the mountain. With a fleeting glance, Link saw the two Gorons in the corner of the landing, one completely frozen. He realized why he must rush. The young hero dashed inside the cavern and pulled the Lens of Truth to his eye. The ghost was hovering in the middle of the cave, in front of a carved grave stone. Link took a moment to survey the area, noting the green algae that had developed on the floor. There were rock crystals and carvings all around, but Link had no time to examine them. He hastened to the center, where the ghost was. Producing his ocarina, Link began to play. Though he couldn't see the ghost, Link felt it's suffering begin to fade. The anguish of the spirit was vanishing as he was finally laid to rest, assured by this young hero that his village would be rescued. The last traces of pain faded into oblivion as a mask clattered to the ground in front of Link. He picked it up, running his hand over the smooth surface, letting his eyes take in the beautiful colors of the rough-looking Goron's face. Link lifted it to his face, and with a wince, pressed it against his skin. The strength, the power, and the wisdom of this lifeless Goron now blasted through his veins, morphing. His young muscles bulged, hardening into yellow rock. His face swelled, quickly forming into the somber expression the spirit had worn. What Link felt most, however, was the cold, the unrelenting cold. It beat against his skin, slowly rotting him away, killing everything in him. His vision faded and doubled; his arms and legs froze; he was dropping into a world of delirium. Then it ended. Link was the Goron, Darmani. He knew his name, he knew his past, he knew his friends; he knew everything about this Goron. He also knew what was beneath the rock carved in his honor. His thick Goron muscles hardened as he pushed the heavy gravestone. The veins on his arms grew visible and hard as he pushed with all his might. It finally gave, dropping out of the way of a surging fountain of hot spring water. The new Link dropped to the ground, exhausted. He took a pool of the steaming water in his hand and examined his features. A round face, a thick necklace of beads running around his neck. A tuft of snow-white hair ran along his forehead, pushing out from the green hat he was wearing. Furrowed eyebrows surrounded the two large, blue eyes that were half shut with weariness. His lips were straight in a solemn expression, and a small white goatee accented his yellow face. "How much longer am I doomed to lead these lives?" Link asked himself. "How much longer until I can be Link again back in Hyrule?" He looked up to gray ceiling, imagining the moon, its twisted expression agonizing the crater-riddled landscape of its head. "Until I stop that thing." The Hero of Time rose to his feat, the bravery of the Goron in himself surging through every vein in his body. He flung his hands into the air, a gesture of defiance. The young hero threw out his cry to the land: "Hear me now, Majora! I will defeat you one day, and make you pay for all the suffering you have caused! When that day comes, you will regret ever placing that mask on your wicked face!" His call echoed across the land, down into each crevice and across every mountain. "You will die!!!" 


End file.
